The Baby the Billionaire Demands Page 5

  The bare brick walls were decorated with old original movie posters, along with old neon signs, which were no doubt originals, too. Rodrigo had occasionally seen neon signs he liked as he traveled to his movie sets around the world, from Tokyo to Sydney to Berlin. She’d watched in awe as he’d casually bought entire businesses, simply to acquire the signs.

  That was Rodrigo, Lola thought, a little bitterly. He’d rip out someone’s beating heart just to tap his toe to the rhythm.

  She blinked hard, to make sure no trace of emotion was on her face. She might become his wife, but he’d never possess her. She’d never let herself love him, ever again.

  “Miss Price!” The New York housekeeper, Mrs. Farrow, came in from the next room of the loft. The woman’s plump face broke into a big smile. “I’m so glad you’re back. And how exciting, you’re going to be married?”

  “Strange, huh?” Lola said, feeling awkward. Especially when the woman was followed by a white-haired, distinguished-looking man Lola didn’t know.

  “Not strange. Lovely.” Mrs. Farrow knelt before the stroller, smiling at Jett. “And this is your baby?”

  “Yes... Jett.”

  The older woman beamed. “He’s adorable.”

  Pulling off her black gloves, one by one, Lola stuck them in her pockets. “Thank you.”

  The white-haired man smiled at her, his eyes twinkling beneath bushy white brows. “So should we get this show on the road?”

  Lola frowned at Rodrigo. “What’s he talking about?”

  “This is the judge,” he said. “He’s going to marry us.”

  “What? When?”

  “Today.” Rodrigo’s lips curved. “Now.”

  Lola stared at him in shock.

  “We can’t,” she stammered. “We need a marriage license.”

  “Occasionally, when there’s a good reason, the rules can be bent.”

  “What’s the good reason?”

  His black eyes gleamed. “It’s Sunday. And I wish to marry you today. Not wait to get the license from City Hall tomorrow and then wait another twenty-four hours after that.” He turned to the judge. “Shall we begin, your honor?”

  “Now?” Lola’s head was spinning. “No! I want a real ceremony! With my friends!”

  Rodrigo’s sensual lips curved sardonically. “Sorry to crush all your romantic dreams,” he said, as if he was sure she didn’t actually have any. “You’ll have to settle—” he reached into his pocket “—for this.”

  Holding up a small black velvet box, he opened it to reveal an engagement ring. Her eyes went wide. The diamond was as huge as a robin’s egg.

  “We have everything else we need. Witnesses.” He looked at Mrs. Farrow, and Tobias, the bodyguard who’d just come in through the front door. “A judge.” Tilting his head, he said courteously to the white-haired man, “I hope your daughter is doing well.”

  “Yes, and I’ll never forget how you helped her,” the judge said warmly. “My four grandchildren still have a mother today thanks to you.”

  Rodrigo acknowledged his praise with a slight nod. “I was glad to pay for the experimental treatment. I’m pleased it worked. And grateful for your help.”

  “What, marrying you two?” The judge’s voice was genial. “Marrying folks is my favorite part of the job! I’ll make sure the paperwork’s all handled right.” Then, looking at Lola, he faltered. “Of course, only if the lady is willing.”

  “I’m not,” she said flatly.

  “Excuse us for a moment.” Grabbing her arm, Rodrigo pulled her back to the foyer. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Lifting her snoozing, limp baby from the stroller, she glared at him fiercely. “I’m not getting married without my friends!”

  “Which friends are you hoping to see?” Rodrigo’s voice was dangerous and low. “A certain lovelorn Russian, to try to make me jealous?”

  Lola looked at him in shock, then burst into a laugh. “Sergei? You can’t be serious!”

  “I don’t intend to wait.” His expression hardened. “We’re getting married. Right now.”

  “Or else what?”

  “Do not defy me.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  His voice changed. “Marrying me today will benefit you as well.”

  “How?”

  “It goes both ways. Perhaps if we wait—” he tilted his head thoughtfully “—I’ll get cold feet and decide to call it all off.”

  “Fine with me—”

  “Perhaps I’ll decide I’d rather sue for full custody, and take my chances in the courts. I can wait out a long trial. Can you?”

  She glared at him.

  He smiled.

  Lola looked down at her baby’s fuzzy jacket, breathing in his sweet baby scent. “I don’t appreciate ham-fisted threats.”

  He shrugged. “I despise long engagements—”

  “Long!”

  “I want to get this done.” His gaze hardened. “Is there any reason to delay?”

  Her friends, she thought desperately. She wanted Tess and Hallie here for emotional support. And what about her little sisters? She hadn’t seen them for seven years, but it felt wrong not to have her only family here.

  But she couldn’t be vulnerable enough to show weakness. Especially not with Rodrigo.

  Instead, she indicated her black puffy jacket and leggings. “Does this look like a wedding dress to you?”

  Taking off his cashmere coat, he glanced down at his own black shirt and trousers and gave a sardonic smile. “We are both wearing black, which seems appropriate for the occasion.”

  “Meaning what? This is like a funeral for you?” Hurt rushed through her, followed by anger. “If you’re having second thoughts about marriage...”

  His dark eyes turned hard. “I’m not. And neither are you.” He looked down at her. “It happens now.”

  Her heart sank. So there would be no pleasant pre-wedding afternoon at the day spa with Tess and Hallie. No deep intense conversations over champagne as they helped her get ready to be a bride. They wouldn’t be here to support her as she pledged her life to the man who’d broken her heart. The man who’d judged her past mistakes and made it clear he didn’t think she was good enough. The man who’d tossed her love back in her face, and would never, ever, have wanted to marry her if not for Jett.

  Lola would face it alone. Dressed for a funeral.

  She took a deep breath.

  “Fine,” she said coldly. “Let’s get it over with.”

  They returned to the main room of the loft.

  “We’re ready,” Rodrigo told the judge.

  “There’s no rush, you know.” The white-haired man suddenly looked nervous, glancing between them as if wondering what he’d gotten himself into, and how he could get himself out of it. “Marriage is, after all, a solemn occasion. Now that I think about it, there’s a reason why the State of New York, in its infinite wisdom, instituted a twenty-four-hour waiting period—”

  “Just do it,” Rodrigo said harshly. His hand gripped her shoulder.

  “Please,” whispered Lola, ignoring the lump in her throat.

  The judge hesitated. Then the baby gave a sudden sleepy whimper in Lola’s arms, and she and Rodrigo both turned to comfort him. Watching them caring together for their son, tucking the baby back into the stroller for his nap, the judge seemed reassured. He gave a decisive nod when they returned.

  “Very well. Ladies and gentlemen,” he intoned. “We are gathered here today, in the presence of witnesses, to unite this man and this woman in the bonds of matrimony...”

  The short ceremony passed quickly. As if in a dream, Lola heard herself speak the words that bound her to Rodrigo for life.

  But the awful truth was, she’d bound herself to him long ago, from the night she’d become pregnant with his chil
d.

  And now, from this moment on, forever.

  Rodrigo’s dark eyes gleamed down at her as the ceremony drew to a close. He seemed almost surprised. Why? Had he thought for some reason that something would prevent it?

  Their eyes locked as he slid that obscenely huge diamond on her finger. Funny. Once, she would have dreamed of a moment like this. At fourteen, she dreamed of love, and a handsome prince. At eighteen, she would have just been keen to hock the ring.

  And now, at twenty-five, how different this moment felt from anything she’d imagined!

  “... I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The judge looked between them with a wink. “You may now kiss the bride.”

  Kiss?

  Lola looked up at the man who was now her husband. I feel nothing, she told herself desperately. Nothing.

  As Rodrigo lowered his head toward hers, she put her hand up to stop him. His chest felt so powerful, so muscular, that in spite of herself, she shivered. “What about your wedding band?” His left hand was still bare. “Don’t you need a ring, too?”

  “I’m a man. I don’t need jewelry to feel married.”

  She stiffened at his sexist remark. But before she could protest, he took her roughly into his arms.

  “Mrs. Cabrera,” he whispered.

  Her lips parted in shock as she heard him speak her new name. Ruthlessly, he lowered his mouth to hers.

  His lips were hot and sweet, tasting of spice and fire. As he kissed her, the world started to spin. Feeling the strength and power of his body against her own, she gripped his shoulders for balance. She forgot everything in her own aching need. She’d wanted him for so long. A sigh rose from deep inside her, the recognition that this man was hers, hers alone, as she had always been his...

  The judge, housekeeper and bodyguard watching them applauded, and Lola suddenly remembered they had an audience.

  Pulling away, Rodrigo looked down at her with gleaming eyes.

  Pleasure was still spiraling through her as her lips tingled from his bruising kiss. When his mouth had claimed hers, all the distance between them, all the coldness and anger, had exploded into fire, like two storms colliding. But now the distance was back.

  She tried to read his expression, to see if the kiss had affected him like it had her. But his face gave nothing away. “Thank you,” he said to the judge, then turned to the bodyguard, Tobias. “Everything is ready for our departure?”

  “Already packed, Mr. Cabrera.”

  “Packed?” Lola frowned at her brand-new husband. “Are you going somewhere?”

  “Not me. We.” Rodrigo gave her a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “My jet is waiting to take us to Los Angeles.”

  It was like a splash of ice water, jolting her awake. “But New York is my home now. My sisters—all my friends—”

  His lips twisted. “Friends like Morozov?”

  “He was never my friend!”

  He snorted. “Exactly.”

  Lola ground her teeth. “Why are you being so unreasonable!”

  “You just agreed to be my wife, Lola. To honor and obey.” Rodrigo gave her a cruel smile. Cupping her cheek, he looked down at her as he said softly, “Now you will.”

  * * *

  Rodrigo could hardly believe it.

  After all his engagements that had never made it to the altar, this one actually had. They were married. He was almost in shock.

  Perhaps it was true he’d rushed their vows that morning. But once he’d made up his mind to marry her, he couldn’t give Lola a chance to betray him like the rest. He couldn’t take any chances with fate, or whatever else had cursed his life.

  This marriage would work. It had to work. They had a child.

  Now, as Rodrigo drove his red convertible north, traveling from the private airport outside Los Angeles to his beach house near Malibu, Rodrigo glanced at the rearview mirror. He saw his baby’s pudgy hand waving from the rear-facing baby seat. Jett was making cooing noises, and seemed delighted to be in California, beneath the palm trees and warm blue skies.

  It was strange to think he had a child. Even stranger for Rodrigo to think he was a father. What did he know about fatherhood?

  His own parents had left him in the care of nannies. His mother, an American actress, had traveled the world enjoying her love affairs, as the man who’d supposedly been his father, Francisco Cabrera, had tortured himself with jealousy pursuing the unfaithful wife he adored.

  It wasn’t until Francisco’s funeral, when Rodrigo was twenty-one, that his mother told him the reason the man always seemed to despise him. Rodrigo’s real father had been the chauffeur.

  “He was very handsome, and I was bored, what can I say?” Elizabeth Cabrera had told him, putting her finger to her cheek thoughtfully. “It was just a one-night indiscretion. Francisco wanted me to get rid of you. Perhaps I should have. My figure was never quite the same after.”

  Now, Rodrigo glanced in the rearview mirror of the convertible, toward his son. Jett was such a sweet little boy, with big black eyes and chubby cheeks. He’d been obviously well fed and well cared for. Obviously loved. Beneath Lola’s ferocity, there was utter devotion for their son.

  He appreciated that about her, at least.

  In some ways, their new relationship was simple: they were a family. But between Rodrigo and Lola, now husband and wife, it was a little more complicated.

  His gaze now shifted to his wife, sitting beside him in the convertible. Her arms were folded, and she was seething silently at the wide Pacific Ocean as they drove up the coastal highway. He smiled grimly.

  He hadn’t lied when he’d said she was smart and a fighter. She’d been the best personal assistant he’d ever had, even better than Marnie, his longest-serving secretary. He’d relied on Lola’s intelligence, on her strength. She’d been a miracle worker as an employee, always able to achieve the impossible, willing to work any hour of the day or night, even on Christmas Day.

  For two years, he’d wanted her. But he hadn’t let himself even flirt. Then, after Lola had kissed him in Mexico City, he’d taken her to bed, and discovered she was a virgin. From that moment, they’d been intoxicated, drunk on passion and pleasure. When she’d told him she loved him, in spite of everything, his heart had expanded in his chest.

  Then Marnie had given him those awful photographs of Lola half-naked in that chair, looking seductively into the camera. And there was more.

  Sir, there’s something you should know about Lola Price.

  Rodrigo still felt sick thinking about it.

  But why had Lola ever done those sordid things at eighteen? The thought jolted him. Because she clearly wasn’t the coldhearted gold digger he’d once believed her to be. If she’d cared only about money, she would have demanded a huge payout from Rodrigo the moment she’d discovered she was pregnant.

  So why had Lola posed for those provocative photographs? Why had she done even worse? Just youthful stupidity? He ground his teeth. He’d had his share of that himself, with his own three broken engagements. But was there more to it? Had she just been desperate to be a movie star? Or had something forced her into it?

  Rodrigo looked at Lola out of the corner of his eye. The warm wind was tossing her blond hair in the sun. But her jaw was tight, and she was tapping her fingertips on the convertible’s armrest in repressed fury.

  No point in asking her, he knew. She guarded the darkest secrets of her soul with grim determination. In that, she and Rodrigo were the same.

  During the flight from New York on his private jet, they’d sat at opposite ends of the cabin, ignoring each other. She’d accused him of bossing her around, being a tyrant. Not a great start. But it wouldn’t go on for long.

  His gaze traced down the curve of her cheek, to her swanlike throat and full breasts. He’d promised to honor and cherish her, forsaking all others. She
didn’t realize that he’d already done that for the last year. He was hungry for her. Starving.

  He wanted her in his bed. Tonight.

  But first, he needed her to actually look at him. He grudgingly extended an olive branch.

  “Are you really so upset about leaving New York?”

  “You had no right,” Lola said, turning to him with her eyes blazing. “Just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean I’m your slave. I wanted to stay in New York, but you didn’t care! Just like you didn’t care you frog-marched me through our wedding!”

  “You wanted Morozov there?”

  She let loose a curse that would have made a sailor blush.

  “Not Morozov, then,” he said, amused. “Then who?”

  “My friends. Hallie. Tess.” She looked disconsolately out at the hills. “My sisters.”

  “You said you haven’t seen your sisters in years.”

  “I haven’t,” she whispered.

  “Then I don’t see why it matters that they weren’t there today.”

  Lola took a deep breath. “They’re a lot younger than me. Still just kids. My mother died when they were just five and eight. They were sent to foster care, then adopted.” Her jaw tightened. “When I left California last year, I went to New York. I intended to finally ask them to forgive me. For not keeping my promise to get custody back.” She looked down at her hands, twisting in her lap. “But I never had the guts.”

  Admitting failure was so unlike Lola that he glanced at her in surprise. He switched gears, stepping hard on the gas as they drove up the highway. “You’ll think of some way to smooth things over. You always do.”

  Lola looked at him hopefully out of the corner of her eye. “You think so?”

  He snorted. “You never had trouble arranging people when you were my assistant. You always managed to get me appointments with anyone from feared dictators to beloved religious leaders.”

  “Because you’re you.”

  “And you’re you,” he said firmly. “You know how to argue people into things. When you’re ready to see your sisters, you’ll figure out how.”

  Lola bit her lip thoughtfully. He could almost see the wheels start to turn in her mind. “I could send them some amazing present. Just to break the ice. Then they’d have to contact me to say thanks.”